Friend
by ScarlettHarper
Summary: Friend-is that what this is? I am not sure I understand the word the same as you. Is a friend that which makes ones breath quiver and thoughts turn to mush? To make them abandon all rationality and self preservation? Or, can it be, the body in which one sinks into when she had turned them away?


How many times have I been here with you? Tear streaked and heart crumbling as I swear _never again._ My heart knows no relief, my bed knows no warmth, not unless it belongs to you...just as I do, My Friend.

Friend-is that what this is? I am not sure I understand the word the same as you. Is a friend that which makes ones breath quiver and thoughts turn to mush? To make them abandon all rationality and self preservation? Or, can it be, the body in which one sinks into when _she_ had turned them away. The voice that welcomes even though it wants nothing more than to deny. The heart that can let no one else in because the pieces left among the cracks and holes are already filled with a _friend_.

Beside me my phone buzzes, but I make no move to answer it; I know it is you. I wonder if you know I saw the status change and scrolled through the picture- she is no friend. If she was, then you would fight her every time she let her gaze wonder too long at a handsome face. Your voice would hold sadness as you beg for her to come to you- to take away the _pain _of _your_ heart crumbling. If she was your friend, you wouldn't be hers, she'd belong to you.

The buzzing becomes too much, and the mirror shatters as my phone is forced into silence. Part of me thinks it is irrational, I could have just turned it off or even told you to fuck off, but when has anything with us been rational?

I'm not even sure how much time passed as I sit staring at the shattered mess before me, it felt like a moment fit inside of an eternity, but as the window is pushed up with an angry _bang_ I am forced back to reality_._ "I called." Your voice is harsh and your eyes narrow as you sit coiled on my windowsill; I am sure I heard you rattle in warning.

I stand, crossing my arms across my chest as if to ward you out of the rapidly beating muscle within. Your sharp eyes catch every movement, and your brow raises as if you realize what it is I am doing.

Out? You seem to question silently, I've never left.

Glancing to the mess of broken glass and plastic, I feel tears well once again in my still drying eyes as strangled words are wrenched from my throat, "I know."

Your gaze follows mine and the words seep out before I think, "I wanted to pick it up, but I'm tired of hurting myself" I had only meant with the glass, but as your eyes snap back to mine I feels a moment of understanding pass between us. Your feet hit the worn, once blue but now looks like a dusty grey, carpet of my bedroom and in five long strides you stand before me, your hands grasping my wet face.

For a moment I see him, the boy who placed a crown of dandelions around my head and told me to never quite dreaming. "So, you find it easier to leave it there?"...and then he is gone.

Pushing away, a tight smile falls across my face and I let out a forced laugh. "And what do you want me to do?" I am aware we are no longer talking about the mess on the floor, but it doesn't stop the horror I feel as slender hands begin gathering jagged shards. Your hands ooze, and I pull at you desperate to make you let go, but you keep going until the mess is gone; I regret allowing the words to pass my lips.

Your crimson hand moves to stroke my cheek just as I catch a glance of our distorted reflection in the pieces of shattered glass that somehow remained attached to the frame. By now I am sobbing and your glare is back, but neither stops you from moving to clutch the back of my neck and pulling me toward your brutal mouth. Our teeth clash and I taste blood, but your hold refuses to give. Finally you pull away with a heart-wrenching "I want you to let me fix it."

You stay the night, both of us hidden from the world in the safety of my small twin bed, cocooned under the comforter as if this alone would stop the sun from rising. I ask you who she is, the girl from the pictures, but all you can say is "Just a friend." but I am no longer foolish enough to believe that word is ever a simple as it seems. "You mean like me?"

I feel your lips press softly against my forehead, and I can't help but press into the kiss. "No," you say after a pause, "no one could ever be like you."

Despite our attempts to linger in the night, the sun chased away the darkness and you returned the way you came. I watched as you sprinted across the yard to the deep brush of woods that I knew hide your bike, and I tried to remember the look of content on your face as I agreed to sit with you at lunch today and meet your new _friend. _

Turning away from the window, I walked to the closet_. _Digging around until I found a suitcase set my mom had sent to me last Christmas, "_In case you need a break from the rain, you can always call it home here"_ she has said in her card-I never thought I'd ever take her up on the offer.

With one last look around my room, I felt my stomach twist as my gaze landed on what was left of the mirror. "Bella?"

I jump at Charlie's voice from down the stairs, I never heard him pull up. "One second, I'll be right down!" Walking over to the battered frame, I pull it from my wall before reaching for the handle of my suitcase to wheel it behind me. Pausing at my dresser, I debated snatching the small frame that rested there; a picture of us last summer at the lake, but decided against it.

The door to the room shut with a soft _click_, and I tried to hold back the tears as I made my way down the stairs. "Was that Edward I saw leaving the driveway?"

"Oh, yeah," I say nonchalantly, "he wanted to see me before I left." Charlie stares at me, but doesn't question it further before he notices the broken mirror in my hands.

"How'd that happen?"

"Must have bumped it while packing. The mess is gone though."

"You hurt?"

"When it happened I was, but I don't even feel it now." Shaking his head, he turned and I followed him out the backdoor, tossing the shattered mess in the trash before heading over to the cruiser.

Moments later we were heading down the road, my home in Forks fading into the background of the rear-view mirror; I never looked back to know the exact moment when it disappeared from view.

* * *

**Well, there it is. I guess I should clear something up, since the first chapter was a little vague. **

**Isabella Swan: 15**

**Edward Masen-Cullen: 17**

**Isabella and Edward are best friends...with benefits. Bella obviously loves him, but he is more in love with the idea of having her to himself. He is kind of a player (Yeah yeah, original right?), but cares about her in his own way. Well, she gets tired of his, as well as everyone else, drama and BS and decides to leave Forks to stay with her mom (we will see what led her to this choice in the next chapter). **

**Who will we meet next chapter?**

**Renee ****Higginbotham-Dwyer**

**Phil Dwyer**

**Alice Cullen**

**Jasper Hale**

**Jacob Black**

**Mike Newton**

**Jessica Stanley**

**Twilight and it's characters are the property of Stephanie Meyer. **


End file.
